Extinguished
by rofldm
Summary: Severus Snape looks back on the fateful day when the love of his life died.


_My little disclaimer: I just had this idea after seeing the film. Thought I'd write out Snape's feelings about this matter. _

_Everything Harry Potter-related belongs to J.K. Rowling. _

_I hope you enjoy it :)_

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><p>She's gone.<p>

I tried my best, but now she's gone.

It was the only thing I asked him not to do. He could have killed the boy. He could have killed that arrogant bastard. But for God's sake, he did _not_ have to kill Lily.

It was my only request of him. I believe it was the only thing I _ever _requested of him.

It was the night that went down in history, and everyone is now celebrating over the _boy_.

No one seems to remember the dead as much as the living. Not now, at least.

They say He's gone now, but I know better. _We_ know better. The tattoo that will forever stain my flesh even knows that he's still out there.

He's still alive, just too weak to carry on for the time being...

I was the first to enter the house after it happened.

As I stood outside the nearly demolished house in Godric's Hollow, it was like I already knew.

I could feel it. I could feel it as if the Killing Curse left a horrible stench that penetrated the walls of the home.

I entered. I knew I had to.

The rumor went around quickly about what had happened, but we Death Eaters knew it before everyone else, it seems. The Dark Mark on my arm stung violently as if it were being burned alive, and I knew.

I knew that he had failed. I knew that something went wrong.

To the Death Eaters, the Potters' death did not matter. All they care about is the Dark Lord's disappearance and the fact that he failed to kill the boy.

The Boy Who Lived. That's what he's called now.

But to me, the Dark Lord's disappearance means nothing. The boy's survival means nothing.

What does matter is the fact that she's gone. Forever...

I was the first to enter the home after it happened.

I stepped into the home and instantly saw destruction. There were holes in the wall, the carpet was shredded, and there was even a dead cat lying at the bottom of the staircase. There seemed to be a path of destruction that led upstairs.

I slowly went up the stairs with my wand held high, keeping my eye open for both signs of life and death.

At the top of the stairs, I met James Potter for the last time. He was lying awkwardly at my feet, his eyes still open behind those stupid round glasses. I lowered my wand to observe his face. The Dark Lord had taken his life. I almost found it to be quite a blessing.

I continued down the upstairs hallway, seeing bits of wood and wallpaper strewn across the hardwood floor. A light was on at the end of the hallway.

"Lily?" I called out without thinking. I had a sinking feeling that she would be in the room where the light was coming from.

I knew from my only previous visit to the house that it was the boy's room.

I was almost praying to myself that I would find her alive. I wanted to see her smile. Her red hair. Her beautiful green eyes. I wanted to see the face that had become a source of comfort since I was only ten years old.

I was outside the room. There was a quiet whimper coming from inside.

There was a sudden flash and rumble of thunder. It was now storming.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the doorway, hoping to see her smile. Hoping to see those beautiful green eyes... Just one more time...

It is a curious thing when one's own world shatters around them. You stare at the source of destruction and it is almost as if you aren't really seeing it. Then, suddenly, the realization sets in, and your body crumbles in a heap of despair and unbelievable pain.

Yes, I got to see her red hair. Yes, I saw her green eyes. But those green eyes peered up to me from behind the bars of a crib next to Lily's body. It was the boy. It was Harry Potter, who now had a fresh cut above his eyebrow in the shape of a lightning bolt.

The Boy Who Lived.

The boy didn't matter to me. I struggled back onto my feet and collapsed again next to her. I ran my hand through her hair as I felt my body shaking with sobs. She was gone. She was gone.

She _is_ gone.

Without thinking, I pulled her body onto my lap and cradled her in my arms. The sobs came out violently. I could not hold them in.

The love of my life was gone. The light of my world was extinguished.

My Lily was dead.


End file.
